


Sex And Violence

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 15:20:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things, you just get used to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex And Violence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UbiquitousMixie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UbiquitousMixie/gifts).



 

  
*********************************

Tara

 

It’s getting harder and harder to pretend nothing happened. It’s even harder when you push and push and she seems to have no problem stepping way the fuck back where she can fuck any person who offers to buy her a drink.

And you’re doing your best not to care because you came to an agreement.

You agreed that this would come to an end the second the boys got out. It was your idea after all. Because you would no longer need her. It was simple. And she will do whatever you want so she agreed. She’s doing what you want. So why the hell are you finding it so difficult to just look the other way when she shows up looking everything like she’s been rolling around in someone else’s bed.

You want to kill her. Instead, you put the kids to bed and light up a blunt that you’re hoping will take the edge off.

And while you do that, she drinks. You can tell when she does. You pretend not to notice.

There’s a lot of that going around, pretending, that it is. In effect, it makes you feel like you’re only keeping yourself together with pieces of scotch tape.

Sometimes, being in the same room together is nearly intolerable. It physically hurts now not being able to touch her and when you do, it’s out of anger, and she rounds on you, shoving you up against the wall in return. You almost forget. You almost forget you don’t touch her anymore and for a second, you nearly fall. So you shove back, hard. She knows better than to make it anything more and so she convinces you that you want to take it all out on Nero’s whore. So you do. You beat the shit out of her and it’s enough for a day or two.

She begins to come around again, to see the kids, you say. Nothing more. You cannot put enough space between you. Gemma radiates energy and there’s nothing you can do about the way you are so sensitive to it. Her voice, almost a growl that reminds you of dark chocolate, sends shivers down your spine and sometimes, when she’s standing too close and you hear her take a breath, you need to step away--your hands begin to shake.

No one’s noticed it and it doesn’t surprise you. Gemma is the master of secrets, and you are learning fast.

Jax tells you he’s worried his mother is falling apart. You agree but decide to emit the fact that you’re the reason why, also hiding that the same is happening to you.

Sometimes, you wonder how he would react if he knew what happened while he was away. That you needed the comfort of another body so badly--and that somebody happened to be his mother. It confuses you, of course it does, but it also makes so much sense.

All you do is think about her lately. Especially now that she is back to spending time with the kids. She’s everywhere. You catch a whiff of her on a blanket in the nursery and you catch yourself minutes later, standing there with the blanket pressed against your nose.

You never talk about it. It’s easy to do that. But that’s about the extent in simplicity as it relates to this entire situation.

One night, you come home to the sound of silence. It’s late in the evening and you can feel your boys resting easily. It’s a mother thing, just like you can feel it in your bones when they’re hurting, you feel the same ease when you know they’re sleeping soundly. You smile as you move inside your house. You know she’s here, and as you gravitate closer to wherever she is, you can feel her. You look in the nursery, and she’s not there, you find her in your bedroom and you stand in the doorway as she bends and rises while she makes the bed.

She looks over her shoulder and smiles, “Hey, baby.”

It’s casual, this term of endearment she uses on everybody else, not just you, yet it’s the single best thing you’ve heard all day.

“What are you doing?” You ask dryly. You really don’t want her in here. Things are difficult enough as they are and the last thing you need is having her in the space you shared with her all those months.

“Just making the bed,” She says swiftly, fluffing a pillow, “I’m almost done here.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

She isn’t looking at you now and this kills you. You turn away, head for the kitchen and straight through the small box you keep in the top cabinet. You pull out a joint, put it in your mouth and you’re just about to light it when you stop. Your breathing is ragged, your heart is racing, and you realize that this will not do. It is most definitely just not enough to put your mind at ease tonight

You drop the joint in the sink along with the lighter, and head back towards the bedroom, your strides quick and determined. You almost run into her as you turn into the bedroom and she’s on her way out.

“Shit…” She laughs. And then she knows. She knows you’re not moving and that your resolve is dead as far as you know.

You hear her swallow and hear her breathing. You reach out and touch her leather jacket. She breathes in a shuddering breath and she fearfully says your name. You really wish you didn’t need to hear her voice so badly.

She looks you in the eye and you lunge forward, grabbing the back of her head as you pull her forward and you kiss her, so hard you feel her teeth cut your lip. But there’s no resistance on her part, as if she’s been waiting all this time for you to give the okay. She pulls at her shirt as you walk her backward until the back of her knees hit the bed and she falls back with a grunt. You reach for her boots, unzipping quickly and tossing them on the floor before you quickly shrug off your jacket and pull off your shirt while she does the same. She watches you, panting, as you undo your jeans and she waits until they’re halfway down your thighs to begin on her own.

It’s dark in here now, but moonlight streams in through the window and the way her skin glows against it makes your chest tighten up with an overwhelming need.

Soon after kicking your pants away, you pull hers off an throw them over your head. She reaches for you with both hands and when you kiss her again, everything falls into place. Even if tomorrow you’ll have to go back to not needing her, needing this, feeling complete now is worth it.

She sighs and touches you everywhere as you kiss her neck. And your hands seem to mold you back into place with every caress. She reaches around you and unclasps your bra before you even notice what she’s doing. You pull back and she wraps her lips around your nipple the first chance she gets. You shut your eyes and moan as your entire body is instantly covered in goose bumps.

Her hands slide across your lower back, while she moves her mouth along your breasts, kissing and licking and gently biting before she sits up and pulls you tightly against her with both hands on your ass until you’re grinding down against her and you’ve got both arms wrapped around her neck. You kiss her again, because there can’t be enough of that tonight, there just can’t be. Her mouth is hot and wet and her tongue tastes like something minty. Not a trace of alcohol on that tongue. You pull back and she kisses your cheek, once and then again. You never thought you could feel so much all at once. Overcome, you hold her face in both hands, keeping her in place as your eyes meet in the darkened room and after a moment of trying to find something to hate, she smiles. Unknowingly, you shake your head and your mouth opens. You want to tell her something, you want to say something that will make a difference, but she kisses you, softly.

“Don’t say anything,” She tells you.

And you don’t. You lower your head and press your lips to the top of her scar, closing your eyes as you take in the texture you memorized long ago and she sighs bellow you.

************************

Gemma

 

 

You awake to the sensation of her touching your chest. She doesn’t know you’re awake yet. She’s resting her weight on her elbow and she’s slowly tracing the length of your scar with her index finger. She’s got a smile on her face and she’s perfect.

She senses you but doesn’t look up as she says, “Staring is creepy.”

“So is touching someone while their sleeping,” You tell her. Your voice is a little rough this early in the morning and you brace yourself because she smiles at the sound of it and looks at you, baring all teeth. You roll your eyes. “Oh, god, what?”

“Your voice is so cute in the morning, did I tell you that?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Did I tell you about your scar.“

“No, what about my scar?” You turn your head on your pillow.

“I think it’s sexy,” She says, “I think you’re sexier because of it. It makes you strong and it tells people they can’t fuck with you.” She touches it again, straight down your chest plate and you shiver because she means it.

“Are you trying to get lucky before breakfast?” You ask as she kisses your scar and smirks against it.

“Yes,” She admits and you laugh together before she adds, “But I’m also telling the truth. You’re the strongest person I know. You make me feel safe.”

You sigh and shake your head. “Damn it, okay, you win.” You tell her and push her onto her back. She laughs against your mouth and you only hope the boys don’t wake up before you’re done.

You’re going to give into this girl, you’re going to give her what she wants until she decides you are not what she wants.

  
**********************

Tara

 

 

She presses you down against the mattress, you bury your face into a pillow and hop it’s enough to muffle the guttural moan you elicit. Her mouth is everywhere, tracing every inch of your skin. By know, it’s trailing down your back, heading for that mark on your lower back you never really forget you have, but you’re already writhing underneath her, the bed she’s just made already ruined. You’re going to have to change the sheets after this anyway, so it doesn’t matter.

As soon as she’s distracted, you turn over and she’s already crawling over you. The bracelets on her wrists make that tinkling sound you remember. Looming over you, she seems to be thinking, afraid you might lose this you drop your gaze against her chest, where you can’t see whatever doubt there may be in her eyes. You touch her scar, her skin is so warm and she sighs.

You lick your lips and fight back all the emotion you don’t want to feel. “Gemma, I need this. I need you.”

“Look at me and tell me that,” She says. With hesitance, you oblige her, her eyes soft as she looks pleadingly down at you.

The sentence is barely out when her mouth lands on yours and you hook your leg over her hip as she straddles your thigh and you hold on tightly as your bodies begin to move against each other.

She trembles in your arms within moments, moaning and breathing hotly against you. The feeling of her losing herself because of you finally does it and she’s stringing you along all over again, holding all the broken pieces for you so you don’t have to. You sob against her shoulder and lose your breath, unknowingly panting her name as you your fingertips into her skin, shutting your eyes because you know that it isn’t safe to let yourself unwind like this and if you let go of the way your limbs are webbed together, you will fall apart.

You gasp when you feel her pull her body from your grasp, you feel the emotion threatening to give and nearly curse her when she gently spreads your legs and presses her lips to your still aching center. You sigh heavily and as you arch your neck and pull your hands above your head to grip the headboard, stubborn tears fall from your eyes.

You dread ever starting this because you don’t know how it was that you ever thought you could end it. You don’t know how you’ll go back to loving just Jax when she leaves your home. As she brings you to your second orgasm, you don’t think that will be possible.

*********************

Gemma & Tara

 

 

Three weeks is the longest they’ve gone without it, and it’s so bad today that ten minutes will have to do.

Not that they’re not careful. Being careful is what has them nearly shaking with need as they savagely pull at each other’s clothes as soon as the door to Tara’s office is locked.

Tara has a difficult time with Gemma’s jeans and she laughs the nerves away, even though there’s nothing funny about this.

There is nothing funny about the way she snaps at anyone and everyone lately, and there is nothing funny about the way Gemma seems more uneasy than withdrawal from any drug can ever make her.

They both seem to register the same problem simultaneously and Tara’s eyes shut at the sound of Gemma’s labored breathing. She feels the precipitation in the older woman’s actions--the way she touches her face the way she’s doing now and hesitating with every kiss that just barely grazes Tara’s lips.

“How long are we going to keep doing this?” Gemma asks in a harsh whisper, ands he hopes and prays that Tara says “now” because it should have never escalated to this extent. It’s selfish and childish to want to keep this to herself. It’s in her personality, to take things that she doesn’t really need. She didn’t particularly need to take her son’s love away from him--and she has. Because while in public, Tara sticks by Jax’s side, it’s Gemma she’s looking at when no one else directs a glance their way. It’s Gemma Tara needs at night when she’s along and it’s Gemma Tara needs every other night, when Jax is asleep beside her.

Shaking her head, negating all that comes with responsibility and the maturity she once was so proud of, the younger woman tilts her chin upward and captures Gemma in a deep, demanding kiss that seals everything and along with it, tells Gemma “we don’t end here”.

 

*******************

END


End file.
